


The Snow Paradox

by Ivrigasked



Series: Paradoxical [1]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, High-school age Mordelia, M/M, Teacher AU, Teacher Baz Pitch, Teacher Simon Snow, Teenagers are just oblivious, Well not actually secret, secret husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:27:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22223320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivrigasked/pseuds/Ivrigasked
Summary: No one knows Mordelia Grimm is related to Mr. Pitch.It’s her fifth year of secondary when it finally happens.Simon, or rather, Mr. Snow, becomes the assistant athletic director and football coach at Mordelia’s school, Watford Academy.She knew it was coming, of course, as he and Baz had been talking about it for awhile, so his appearance on the first day of fall term wasn’t a surprise. If anything, it was expected.What was a surprise, however, was the reaction from her classmates. Which was, disgustingly, overwhelmingly positive.And no one knows Mr. Pitch has any kind of relationship with Mr. Snow, let alone that he's married to him.Mordelia Grimm will take that secret to the grave.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Paradoxical [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674886
Comments: 108
Kudos: 481





	1. Welcome to Watford, Mr. Snow

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt idea for a completely different fandom via tumblr user vaskainmountains in regard to Damen and Laurent.  
> I kinda took it and am actively running with it.  
> Enjoy!

No one knows that Baz, or rather, _ Mr. Pitch _ the English teacher, is Mordelia Grimm’s brother. The name difference, after all. Her friends have never asked and no one’s ever thought his preference towards her to be anything other than academic, and she’s never thought it was necessary to tell them, so she never did. He’s always taught at her school, even since before she went there. He started teaching when he was twenty-two, almost straight out of Uni, and when she finally made it to secondary, identifying herself as his sister would only have made her look bad, and she kept it to herself for so long it simply became irrelevant. 

However, when Simon starts teaching at Watford in Mordelia’s fifth year of secondary, this hidden fact becomes simultaneously both hilarious and torturing, given that Simon is Baz’s husband, and has been for 3 years. But no one but Mordelia Grimm has any idea. No one knows that she’s related to Mr. Pitch, and by extension, Mr. Snow (by marriage), and it’s going to be the best kept secret of the 21st century. 

* * *

Ever since their first year, Mordelia and her friends have the routine of meeting under a large oak tree after class, so they can all walk home together. Sylvia and Nellie are already with her, and they’re chatting about their new classes when Hazel comes bounding out of the nearest building, running towards them. 

“Have you lot seen the new teacher?” She asks excitedly as she sits down in the shade. 

“Who, Mr. Snow?” Mordelia asks, bemused. 

“Yes! I have,” Sylvia yelps, grinning viciously from cheek to cheek. “He’s so handsome.” 

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Mordelia stops, looking at Sylvia as if she’s lost her mind. 

“He’s so tan, and all those curls,” Hazel swoons, and Mordelia’s stomach churns. _ Maybe this won’t be the best secret of the 21st century. Perhaps, it’ll be the worst.  _

“He’s downright fit, that one,” Elijah pipes in, joining them. “I have him for health studies.” 

“You lucky bastard,” Nellie laughs. “I think we might have to go to some football games this year just to watch him.” 

“You’re making me sick,” Mordelia cringes. _ That’s her brother-in-law _ . 

“Mordy, even you could admit he’s fit if you’d look up from your textbooks for five seconds,” Hazel laughs and Mordelia rolls her eyes. 

“But that’s why she’s Mr. Pitch’s favourite,” Elijah says mockingly. 

“ _ No _ ,” Mordelia scowls. “I’m Mr. Pitch’s favourite because I do the work and actively participate in class discussions, unlike you imbeciles.”  _ And she’s his sister _ . 

“God, she even talks like him,” Nellie laughs. 

“Pays to be the teacher’s pet,” Sylvia sneers, and Mordelia actually has to hold her breath so she doesn’t vomit. 

“I’m not afraid to light you all on fire, you know.” She says, and they all stare at her before breaking out into laughter. 

“You’re so touchy about that,” Elijah says. “We know you and Mr. Pitch are cool. He respects you like you’re his little protege. It’s cute,” 

“Please don’t call me cute,” 

“Honestly, it’s too bad he’s gay,” Sylvia sighs. “He’s fit, in like a spooky, I-could-be-a-vampire way.” 

“Sylvia,  _ no _ ,” Mordelia cringes again, for what feels like the hundredth time that afternoon. 

“She’s got a point, Mordy,” Hazel laughs. “He’s intimidating as all hell, but it’s cool as fuck.” 

“Guys, these are  _ our teachers _ we’re talking about, also, they’re both married.” 

“Wait, what?!” Sylvia shouts, shocked. 

“How do you even know that?” Nellie asks, leaning in. 

“Mr. Pitch wears a ring, and he’s definitely talked about his husband once or twice.” She tells them.

“No, he hasn’t. Mr. Pitch is like a steel vault when it comes to personal details. He wouldn’t even tell us if he actually lives in London or not.” Sylvia says. 

“Mr. Snow doesn’t wear a ring?” Hazel says, frowning. “I checked,” 

“Christ, Haze,” Mordelia sighs. “You’re absolutely mad. Also, I have Snow for phys ed. He mentioned he was married during his intro. He didn’t for you?” She turns to Elijah, who shrugs. 

“Dunno, wasn’t really listening. Too busy admiring his freckles.” 

“You disgust me,” Mordelia replies. 

“I bet his wife is gorgeous,” Nellie sighs. 

“Well, his wife’s a dude, so, yeah, probably.” Mordelia shrugs. 

“Mr. Snow is gay too?!” Nellie, Sylvia, Hazel and Elijah all scream in unison. _Whoops._ _Did she just out Simon to her entire school?_

“How do you know that too?!” Sylvia asks. 

“Where are you getting this information, Mordelia?” Hazel says. 

“ _Who do you know?_ ” Nellie cries. 

“Thank fuck,” Elijah sighs. “I’m not opposed to being a homewrecker.” 

“Elijah, _ no _ .” Mordelia groans. 

“Who’s his husband?” Sylvia asks.

“I don’t know,” Mordelia lies. “Probably some boring bloke. Snow didn’t really talk about him much other than ‘my husband and I went to America over the summer to visit some old friends, what did you guys do?’ and then made us share. It was all very dull.” 

“I can’t believe this,” Hazel frowns. “This is devastating news.” 

“You’ll be fine,” Mordelia sighs. “Can we go?” 

They all gather their things and stand, and the conversations about _ Mr. Snow _ finally come to an end. Thank fuck. 

* * *

_ The next day... _

“Hey, Mordy, up top,” Simon says as he passes by her in the hallway. 

“I’m not high-fiving you, Snow.” She replies, trying to smother her smirk. He frowns dramatically at her and lets his hand fall. 

“Fine, but you will have to one of these days. You can’t avoid it forever!” he says as he disappears around the corner. When Mordelia turns back to her friends, their all gawking at her. 

“What?” She asks. 

“How are you _ already _ cool with Mr. Snow? Also, when did it become fine to just drop the ‘Mr.’?” Sylvia asks. Mordelia shuts her eyes.  _ Fuck.  _

“I don’t know, I just started doing it?” Mordelia shrugs noncommittally and slams her locker shut. 

“You’re incredible, with the shit you get away with in this school, Grimm.” Elijah says, rolling his eyes. 

“It’s almost like you’ve got the in.” Hazel says. 

“I don’t have the _ in _ , I assure you.” Mordelia laughs nervously. 

“Sure, Mordy. Sure.” Sylvia says, her eyes narrowing. “We’ll see.” 

This is going to be much harder than she had originally anticipated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	2. Can You Keep a Secret?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! 
> 
> This fic is gonna be pretty short. I'm tryna keep these chapters short as if this was a one-shot, so the singular chapters won't be more than like 1k words. Not that it matters, I just figured I'd let you know. Mostly, this is just me letting you know this will be finished pretty quickly as I'll be posting the chapters as I finish them. Still doesn't matter! Whatever! Ha! 
> 
> Thank you for the love you've already given to chapter 1. I always feel kind of weird about the first chapter of fics because they feel so forced--so I'm glad you guys liked it so far :) 
> 
> Please enjoy!

Something had changed, but Baz couldn’t put a finger on what, or when. But his students are being just a little bit more attentive, a little bit more nice, a little bit more  _ everything _ , and he has no inkling as to  _ why _ . 

The first week of school has already flown by, and when his first hour students come flooding in Friday morning, Baz watches them with narrowed eyes as they take their seats. Nothing’s off about them, they all seem fine, but their spirits are just a touch too high for the usual Friday. So what is it? Has the lunch in the dining hall gotten better? Did they all suddenly decide to enjoy school this term? He can’t quite decipher their cheeky smiles and shifting glances, except for one individual. 

Mordelia Grimm. 

“Good morning class,” he greets them as they settle in, and he watches them warily as he leans back against his desk at the front of the classroom. “I expect that everyone’s had a good first week of classes?” 

“Yes, Mr. Pitch.” a few students say in unison. He looks to Mordelia, who rolls her eyes. 

“Has anything particularly interesting occurred that anyone would like to share?” he says, still looking at his little sister. She almost imperceptibly shakes her head, and it makes him frown. 

“Seems like our fitness courses are going to be better from now on,” a voice pipes up from the back. 

“Yeah just ‘cause everyone thinks the new teacher is fit,” another voice adds, laughing. Baz starts, and glances around. 

“Excuse me?” 

“It’s um, the new fitness teacher, Mr. Snow?” Victoria Blanchett, a girl who sits in the front row tells him quietly. “He’s taken Watford by storm.” 

Baz tries to school his expression into something neutral, but even he knows that’s not exactly easy to do when your students are talking about  _ how hot your husband is.  _ Baz knows this, of course. He’s the one married to him, for Christ’s sake, but he did not expect this kind of reaction from the general population of Watford Academy. 

“I’ve heard excellent things about Mr. Snow,” Baz says, and he can hear Mordelia snort quietly into her hand. “Is he a good _ teacher _ ?” 

“I don’t think anyone would care,” the same voice laughs again. Baz looks around to find it belongs to none other than Althea Blake, resident rich kid and class disruption extraordinaire. 

“That’s inappropriate, Ms. Blake,” he scolds, and she rolls her eyes at him. 

“Have you seen him, Mr. Pitch?” she replies. 

“He’s _ married _ , Althea,” someone mentions, and he frowns again. Baz wears his ring, but he doesn’t talk about Simon while they’re at school. It’s better for Simon’s new teacher reputation if no one knows they’re involved, because Simon wanted to make his own first impression. Seems like he’s doing a fine job of _ that _ . To be honest, Baz doesn’t share much of anything personal with his students. It’s unprofessional. 

“So’s Mr. Snow,” another student says. Wait, what? How does anyone even know that? Simon doesn’t wear his ring to school because he says it bothers him while he’s working. 

Baz looks to Mordelia again, who’s casually staring out the window. Bloody hell. 

“He only ever talks about his husband, it’s actually pretty cute,” Victoria adds. 

“I wonder if we’ll ever get to meet him,” says the girl who sits behind Victoria, and they both squeal with concealed delight. 

“That would be amazing,” she replies. 

“Alright, settle down,” Baz sighs. 

“You didn’t tell us if you’d seen him, Mr. Pitch,” Althea asks again. 

“I’ve met him briefly, at the teacher assembly before the term started. He seems fine.” 

“Fine  _ as hell _ ,” Althea laughs, and Baz can’t help the hand that runs over his face. 

“This conversation is over. Ms. Grimm, please see me after class.”

Mordelia looks at him, her expression bemused, but realization dawns quickly across her face. She nods once, and Baz tells everyone to take out their textbooks. 

This term should be fun. 

* * *

After class, Mordelia tries to escape unnoticed, but Baz gets her by the shoulder as she makes for the door. 

“Oww,” she whines, but Baz holds tightly and says nothing as the rest of the students filter out of the room. When they’re all gone, he shuts the door, and leans back casually against his desk. 

“What did you do?” he asks calmly, and Mordelia just huffs under her breath as she sits on the desk across from him. 

“Nothing, Simon’s just not subtle, like at all.” 

“He doesn’t wear a ring, Mordelia.” 

“But all he can fucking talk about is you! Of course, he doesn’t say _ your  _ name specifically, but he doesn’t shut up about ‘my husband this’ and ‘my husband that’. Reign in your husband if you don’t want it getting out,  _ Mr. Pitch _ .” she sneers, and he simply frowns at her. 

“Mordy,” Baz sighs. 

“Look, Baz, no one is smart enough to put two and two together. You guys could let this thing run its course and eventually people will stop thirsting after Simon and it’ll all blow over.” 

“Thirsting after Simon?” 

“Oh my god, you’re so old,” she rolls her eyes. 

“Mordelia,” 

“Everyone thinks Simon is fucking hot, okay?!” 

“Well,  _ clearly _ ,” 

“This is your fault,” 

“My fault?” Baz stops, raising an eyebrow at his little sister. 

“You encouraged him to teach here, Baz. You brought him into this mess.” 

“I did no such thing,” 

“He’s your husband! You know he’s fit, and you brought him into the very same environment you fell for him in, you incorrigible swot.” 

“Fuck,” Baz curses under his breath at the realization. 

“Did you guys somehow forget that these are teenagers and you guys are still relatively young? Have you ever watched any single high school comedy involving hot young teachers? You suffocate me with your ignorance, Basilton.” 

“ _ Mordelia _ ,” Baz sighs. He runs a hand through his hair in exasperation, and she rolls her eyes at him again. 

“Look, Baz. No one has to know you’re married to  _ each other _ ,” she tells him. 

“They’ll figure it out,” he groans, and Mordelia just shakes her head in disagreement. 

“Not necessarily,” she says. 

“What do you mean?” 

“If you think about it, it’s actually kind of funny.”

“How so?” Baz frowns. 

“Can you imagine their faces when they eventually see you two roll up to school together one day when his car inevitably breaks down?” 

“We’ll never do that,” 

“Baz,” she deadpans. 

“What?” 

“Let this thing play out, no one really believes you’re married anyway.” 

“Wait, really?” 

“They think you’re too stone cold to be loved.” 

“What the actual fuck, Mordelia.” 

“I’m serious.” 

“I hate this. I regret every decision I’ve ever made.” 

“Good, as you should. You’re the one that married the Golden Boy and then brought him to work with you because you two can’t be apart for more than a few hours.” 

“We don’t even interact at school, Mordelia.” 

“Okay, so what’s the problem?” 

Baz frowns, thinking on it. There’s really no harm in not saying anything. He doesn’t talk about his husband, so it doesn’t really matter if Simon does. 

“I guess...there’s no problem?” he says finally, and Mordelia nods once. 

“Alright then, can I go? They’ll be wondering where I am.” 

“Yes, you can go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Okay byeeee,” Mordelia sings as she swings the door open and bounces out into the hallway. 

Baz sighs. He has a very, very long term ahead of him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you! 
> 
> See you soon for ch 3!


	3. Ignorance Isn’t Bliss, It Seems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up! I had writers block and I was also out of the country. But it’s here! 
> 
> I really love this chapter. I love soft Baz. I love domesticity. I love SnowBaz, and I hope you do too. Enjoy!

Teaching is not what Baz said it would be. Not that he warned him. He didn’t tell him much of anything, really. He said he’d have favourites, of course, and that he’d come to love teaching. But he definitely didn’t tell him that his students would be _obsessed_ with him. 

Everything was fine the first week. Simon’s students for health and fitness were great, lively and attentive. They had more people at try-outs for sports than ever before, and everyone came to class ready to learn. But that’s when things got weird. 

People in the hallway whispered as he walked by. People giggled when he greeted them politely. Mordelia, oddly, ignored him harder than ever. Baz, his husband of all people, just smirked when he told him. He SMIRKED. He hasn’t smirked at him like that since they went to school. It seems like everyone knows something that he doesn’t, and he does not like the feeling of it. 

It’s mid-September when Simon finally snaps, overwhelmed by built-up frustration. He slams the front door when he gets home, throws his duffle on the floor by the door, and practically kicks his shoes off into the bench there. 

Baz’s head appears from the kitchen doorway, looking bemused. 

“Simon?” He asks, frowning. “Everything okay?” 

“No!” Simon shouts, standing and stretching as he makes his way into the kitchen, where Baz had been busy making dinner. Baz follows him with his gaze as he sits down at the kitchen table, but he doesn’t move or resume his cooking. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Baz asks quietly. Simon sighs, rubbing his face, and leans back in the chair, but doesn’t reply. He then looks at his husband, eyes narrowed, almost glaring. 

Baz’s frown deepens, and he crosses his arms. 

“ _What_?” 

“You know something I don’t,” Simon grumbles. 

“I know a lot of things that you don’t, Simon, you’re going to have to be more specific,” 

“About school. About the students,” 

“To be fair, I’ve been at Watford much longer—“ 

“No, about _my_ students, how they’re _acting_ ,” 

“They’re teenagers,” Baz says, rolling his eyes. “Their behavior is entirely unpredictable.” 

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” 

“Simon—“ 

“Listen, I don’t care if you know that something is up, but I just wish you’d tell me. Am I being hazed or something?” 

“Hazed?” 

“Yeah, you know. Like tricked, ‘cause I’m new.” 

“No, Simon, you’re not being hazed,” Baz sighs. 

“Then why is everybody acting weird around me? Why do they whisper when I walk by? Why do they look at me weird in the hallway?” 

“Simon—“ 

“I just don’t understand! I’ve been nothing but nice to everyone, and I’ve been so _forgiving_ when it comes to assignments—“ 

“Simon!” Baz shouts, and Simon stops rambling to look at him. 

“What?!” He shouts. 

“Stop talking, would you? And listen for a second?” 

“Baz—“ Simon sighs. 

“Your students act like that because they think you’re _bloody fit_ , you dolt,” Baz says, deadpan.

Simon gawks, mouth open. “Wait, what?” 

“Mordelia pointed it out to me the first week, as did most of my first hour students,” Baz explains, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They’re obsessed with you.” 

“Wait...what?” Simon asks, his face scrunching dramatically. 

“You’re the newest teacher, so they will obviously cling to you like flies on raw meat. But you’re also, and I quote, ‘fit as all hell’, which repulses me to no end,” 

“But...why?” Simon frowns. 

“Why what?” Baz sighs, exasperated. 

“Why do they care? I’m their teacher. I’m _married_ ,” Simon says, his frown deepening. Baz stares at his husband, dumbfounded. 

“Simon,” 

“Yeah,” 

“You’re really going to make me spell this one out for you?” 

“No Baz, it’s fine, I just don’t get it—“ 

“Simon, you’re twenty-seven. You’re athletic. Your smile is brighter than the bloody sun, and you’re the nicest person I’ve ever met. Plus, you’re downright gorgeous, so, if your students are obsessed with you, then I must worship the bloody ground you walk on,” 

“Baz, stop,” Simon laughs. “You’re being ridiculous.” 

“Do you know that they don’t believe I’m married when I’m the one that wears my ring to work?” Baz uncrosses his arms and pushes off from where he was leaning against the counter. Walking slowly over to Simon, Baz says, “Can you imagine their faces when then find out that not only am I actually married, but married to _you_?” 

“Baz!” Simon laughs as he wraps his arms around Baz’s stomach when he reaches him. “They’re just kids.” 

“Yes, kids that refer to _my_ husband as anything other than ‘Mr. Snow’ at the first opportunity,” Baz growls, pushing his fingers into Simon’s hair.

“Oh hush,” Simon grins. “You know it doesn’t matter to me.” 

“It matters to me,” Baz pouts, leaning in close. 

“Does it?” Simon murmurs, but he can’t control the wicked smile spreading across his face. 

“Mhm,” Baz sneers. 

“But you’re the only one that gets to do _this_ ,” Simon says as he closes the distance. Baz’s mouth tastes like pasta sauce, and it suddenly reminds Simon that he is _very hungry_. His stomach groans loudly at the thought, and Baz laughs into his mouth. 

“Should probably feed my husband before he leaves me, shouldn’t I?” 

“That would be great, yeah. Though I doubt he’d ever leave you,” 

“You’re right. I wouldn’t let him.” 

“He knows.” Simon smiles fondly as Baz resumes dinner. Baz glances briefly back at him, and smiles softly. 

“I know I said I wanted to keep our personal life separate from school, but…” Simon shrugs. 

“But?” 

“If it makes you feel better, we can tell them,” 

“No, it’s fine. They wouldn’t believe me anyway,” Baz laughs, and pulls two bowls from the cupboard. 

“If you say so,” Simon replies, standing up and kissing Baz on the cheek as he takes the bowl of pasta from him. “It only matters that we know, anyway,” 

“Exactly,” 

* * *

“What did you do this weekend Mr. Pitch?” 

“Oh, I spent it at home with my husband.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you! I hope you liked it! Please let me know :) 
> 
> Comments and kudos make my whole DAY! 
> 
> Love you, see you soon for ch 4!


	4. A Discovery of Pitches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys!!! Thank you for all the love & affection on chapter 3. I got so many wonderful and appreciative comments, I was filled to the absolute brim with love for all of you. And we're almost to 1k hits, which is just awesome! So thank you! 
> 
> This is the second to last chapter, can you believe? 
> 
> I don't have a whole lot to say, so please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Teenagers are delightfully ignorant of their surroundings. Baz has been mentioning “his husband” here and there, right under their noses for weeks, and they don’t have the slightest idea who it is. He’s not being particularly subtle, and yet they still can’t figure it out. Nor do they really...want to. 

* * *

**September** : 

““What did you do this weekend Mr. Pitch?” 

“Oh, I spent it at home with my husband,” Baz replies, smiling fondly at the memory of cuddling up on the couch with Simon all weekend while they graded assignments. 

“Sure, Mr. Pitch,” Althea remarks. “We totally believe you.” 

“Is it really so hard to believe that I might be married?” Baz asks curiously. It’s a bit of a personal question, honestly, but Baz is quite interested in why they think he’d lie about something so mundane. 

“You’re just very stoic, that’s all,” Victoria answers. 

“We don’t mean it in offense, sir. We’ll believe it when we see it.” Althea says. 

“To be honest, I don’t know why I’m talking to a bunch of teenagers about this,” Baz sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Open your textbooks, let's get started.” 

* * *

Baz and Simon agreed that they wouldn’t directly open up about their relationship to their students, but they wouldn’t actively keep it from them either. 

They still take separate cars and don’t see each other much while at work, so it’s been much easier than Baz had originally thought. 

However; his students still don’t even believe he’s _actually_ married. They think he made it up to seem more personable, which is just insulting, really. 

* * *

**October** : 

“Any plans for the holiday?” Baz asks the Friday before Halloween. 

“Eating a ton of candy,” 

“Partying,” 

“Binge watching horror films,” 

“What about you, Mr. Pitch?” 

“Oh, I’ll probably stay home. Children usually find me particularly frightening on Halloween,” Baz smirks. 

“Why’s that?” 

“They think I’m a vampire. Actually, my husband was dead convinced I was a vampire for most of our formative years,” 

“Well, have fun then,” Victoria grimaces as he excuses the students to their next period. He glares at her sharply, confused. 

Mordelia stops before she leaves, looking at him flatly. “They still don’t believe you,” she says. “Althea wasn’t kidding. They’ll believe it when they see it.” 

“You’ll be late for your next class if you don’t leave now,” is all Baz says in reply. Mordelia sighs, shaking her head, and leaves.

* * *

They don’t believe he has any living family at all. Mordelia has made it blatantly clear she doesn’t wish for anyone in her school to know she’s related to the Literature teacher, so they also don’t interact much at school unless she’s in the classroom. 

Baz never thought working with his family would be so lonely. 

* * *

**November** : 

“Mr. Pitch?” Victoria asks one morning, while students are still shuffling into the classroom. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you alright? You look sick,” she asks kindly. 

“I’m fine, thank you,” Baz tells her, and she smiles weakly as she takes her seat in front of him. 

“You look like you died. Not sleeping with your husband out of town?” Mordelia says quietly as she passes. 

“Go to your seat, Mordelia,” Baz sighs in response, and she stops dead in her tracks. 

“Did you just call me Mordelia? We’re at school, _Mr. Pitch_ ,” 

“Go to your seat, Ms. _Grimm_ ,” Baz glares, but Mordelia glares right back and she sits down in her chair. 

“Mordelia! How are you always so cool with your teachers?” Althea asks, her tone venomous. 

“I’m not. It must have just been a slip of the tongue,” Mordelia shrugs casually, but Althea doesn’t let it go. She watches Mordelia for the remainder of class in her peripheral, and follows her out after class is dismissed. 

Baz pays it no mind, which was his first mistake. 

A week later, something happens. Althea comes in and drops a heavy looking yearbook on his desk. 

“What is this, Ms. Blake?” He asks, not looking up from his papers. 

“You tell me, Mr. _Grimm-Pitch_ ,” Althea sneers. 

“That’s not my name,” Baz replies. 

“It is, I checked,” Althea says, pointing to the yearbook. “It says Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch,” 

“Your point, Ms. Blake?” 

“You’re related to Mordelia,” she says finally, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“What?” Mordelia says as she breezes through the door. She looks from Baz, to Althea, to the yearbook, and then narrows her eyes back on Althea. “What did you do, you serpent?” 

“I don’t know the logistics, but you’re related to Mr. Pitch. I checked the yearbooks.” 

“Wow, you’re incredible. An incredible _pain in my ass_ ,” Mordelia hisses, and Althea stares blankly at her. 

“Ms. Grimm,” Baz begins to scold, but Mordelia holds a hand up. 

“Do you feel accomplished? You figured it out,” Mordelia sneers, and Althea steps back. 

“Yes, actually, I do. I always knew there was something strange going on between you two,” 

“Well congratulations, you uncovered the truth. I was really hoping that no one would figure it out, since he’s almost a decade older than me and he dropped the name before we came to this school,” 

“Well, how’re you related then?” Victoria asks quietly. “We’d actually all like to know.” 

“This is going to spread like wildfire, isn’t it?” Mordelia groans, and looks expectantly at Baz. 

“Ms. Grimm is my half-sister,” Baz clarifies, and mouths fall open all over the room. “This doesn’t mean she’s received special treatment, or benefits of any kind, just so we’re clear,” 

“You’ve kept this from everyone for five years,” Althea whispers in disbelief. 

“I didn’t think it was pertinent,” Mordelia shrugs. 

“Oh my god,” Althea says as her eyes widen.

“You know who his husband is,” 

“That’s enough, take your seats,” Baz says, his voice commanding. Althea visibly shrinks and Mordelia rolls her eyes. 

Oh, well. Fuck. That’s one cat out of the bag. 

* * *

“Either you have to quit or I have to drop out,” Mordelia says to Baz after everyone else had left the classroom. 

“Don’t be silly, Mordy. You don’t have to drop out. Just switch schools. No one knows me in Hampshire.” 

“ _Baz,”_ Mordelia whines. 

“Mordelia, it’s fine. So now they know, what’s the big deal?” 

“The big deal is now, they’ll treat me differently because they know I’m your sister. I used to be just Mordelia Grimm. Now I’m Mr. Pitch’s little sister.” She says, and Baz can see the frustration in her young features. Her brow is creased, her eyes are damp. 

“Come here, _ma bichette,”_ Baz says, and Mordelia let’s him wrap her in a tight hug. “I know this seems like a big concern right now. I know your reputation is important to you. But this will eventually blow over, I promise. Next term, they won’t even remember this, or at least they won’t care. Nothing has to change, you know that right?” 

“I know, Baz. I’m sorry, it’s not like I’m embarrassed to be associated with you, or anything. I just didn’t want people thinking I get special treatment,” Mordelia explains, and extricates herself from Baz’s hold. “I need to go. I’m gonna be late for class.” 

“I can write you a note?” 

“What did I _just_ say? No special treatment!” Mordelia exclaims, throwing her hands up. She swings her bag up over her shoulder and rolls her eyes at her brother as she makes for the door. 

“Bye, Mordy,” 

“Bye, tosser,” Mordelia slings over her shoulder as she leaves. 

Maybe things will be fine after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ma bichette" means "my little deer" in French. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think by leaving a comment, you all know how much I love to read them! 
> 
> My other Snowbaz fic, "It's The Things They Don't Tell You," is updating on Saturday, so if you're looking for some college-aged Simon and Baz, please go check that out! It's almost complete! 
> 
> Also if you're interested, please feel free to follow me on [tumblr](https://captain-sass-pants.tumblr.com/) or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Ivrigasked), as I'm fairly active on both of those. 
> 
> Okay, love you. See you soon for chapter 5!!! <3


	5. Welcome to Mr. Snow's personal life, Watford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! 
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments on the last chapter, it was so much fun to write! This whole entire fic has been fun to write! This is probably the quickest I've ever written anything, I think, and I'm so unbelievably sad that we're done with it :( 
> 
> This is it y'all, the last chapter. Finally, the people of Watford discover the secrets behind the husbands. The husband secrets. The secrets for the husbands. 
> 
> ANYWAY, we're at the end, and I sincerely hope that all of you lovely readers, old and new, have enjoyed this journey as much as I have. As a treat, this chapter is TWICE as long as all of the other ones. Whoops! 
> 
> Without any further babbling on my part, please enjoy!

She was killing it. She was doing so well, keeping everything under wraps  _ so well _ , until Basilton had to go and call her fucking  _ Mordy _ one morning. And then Althea fucking Blake had to go and stick her nose into things that don’t concern her and now everyone knows that she’s related to Mr. Pitch. 

Her friends were furious. 

“Ex _ cuse me! _ ” Sylvia shouted across the hall as Mordelia left second hour. “Mordelia Grimm!” 

Mordelia sighs as her name is called out, and it seems as though the entire corridor comes to a standstill as Sylvia bounds her way through it. 

“You have some explaining to do young lady,” she growls as she reaches her. 

“About what?” Mordelia asks calmly. 

“Don’t you try to fucking play that with me, Mordelia,” Sylvia says as she pulls her toward the washroom, tugging her through the heavy door. She leans against the door once it shuts behind them, actively trapping Mordelia inside. “You are my best friend, and have been since we started at the god-forsaken school, and I didn’t know you had an older brother? And that he works here? You’ve been lying to me for five years!” 

“I didn’t  _ lie  _ to you,” Mordelia responds, shrugging, and Sylvia’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead. 

“Are you actually delusional?” 

“No?” 

“Mordelia,” Sylvia sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Mr. Pitch is your  _ brother _ , and you’ve just let us make fun of you for being the teacher’s pet for five years? How has that been the right way to go about things?” 

“I didn’t want anyone to know because I didn’t want everyone thinking I get special treatment,” 

“Nobody thinks that, Mordelia,” 

“Yes they do! I was fine with being labeled the teacher’s pet. Now it’s worse because everyone thinks I’m the teacher’s pet AND that I don’t actually have to work hard because I’m related to him,” 

“We know you do the work, Mordy,” 

“Of course I do the work! I always work really hard and Baz doesn’t help me at all, he actually  _ refuses _ , but nobody would believe me if I told them that! And now Simon is here too and he thinks it’s  _ funny _ —“ 

“Wait what?” Sylvia puts a hand up, stopping her. 

“What?” Mordelia frowns, confused. 

“Simon as in Mr. Snow?” 

“Oh, no. Oh no  _ fuck,”  _ Mordelia squeaks, covering her mouth with both hands. 

“Is Mr. Snow, Mr. Pitch’s  _ husband _ ?!” 

“Sylvia, please, you can’t tell anyone, they don’t want anyone to know, please,” Mordelia begs, her voice tight with soon to be tears. 

“Mordy, hey,” Sylvia says, bringing her hands to Mordelia’s shoulders to steady her. “It’s fine, I don’t care. I’m not going to tell anyone,” 

“Really?” Mordelia sniffles, and Sylvia nods at her calmly. 

“Hey, it’s bad enough that you had to suffer through us thinking your brother-in-law is fit,” She laughs and it eases Mordelia’s anxiety exponentially. She looks up at her friend who’s still gripping her tightly by the shoulders, and takes a deep breath. 

“Thank you,” she sighs deeply, closing her eyes. 

“But you have to tell Elijah, Haze, and Nell,” Sylvia says. 

“Why?” 

“Because if you don’t, you’ll have to suffer with Elijah thirsting over Mr. Snow for the rest of our lives. Also, they deserve to know,” 

“Fine,” Mordelia groans. “Fair enough.” 

Sylvia nods before pushing away from the door and opening it for them. They walk together in relative silence until they reach the dining hall, where their friends are waiting expectantly for them in their usual spot. 

“Mordelia,” Hazel starts, but she stops when Mordelia raises her hand. 

“I know, I know. I have a lot of explaining to do,” she sighs. 

When she finishes, her friends are all sitting, staring at her with their mouths open. 

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Elijah pauses, staring at Mordelia. “So this whole term, I’ve been not only daydreaming about our fitness teacher, but he’s also Mr. Pitch’s husband and  _ related to you _ ,” Elijah whines, his head sinking into his hands. 

“I called your brother fit,” Hazel says, staring blankly down at the table. “And I tried to get you to agree.” 

“It’s fine, Hazel,” Mordelia says. 

“I agreed,” Sylvia sighs. 

“Guys,” Mordelia starts, but Nellie interrupts her. 

“Wow,” Nellie says. “We’ve been calling your family fit for five years.” 

“Well, yes,” Mordelia nods reluctantly. “But it’s fine, guys, really. You didn’t know,” 

“Are we the only people that know they’re married?” Elijah asks. 

“Yes, and you can’t tell anyone!” Mordelia says, glaring at him. “I’ll literally murder you.” 

“Trust me, I know,” Elijah huffs a laugh. 

“Will they ever tell?” Hazel asks, frowning. “I don’t really understand why they haven’t.” 

“Honestly, it’s up to Simon. It’s not like they are actively trying to keep it a secret, but Simon wanted it under wraps for similar reasons to mine.” 

“Reputation?” Sylvia asks, and Mordelia nods once. 

“God, you really are so much like him. I can’t believe we didn’t see it before,” 

“Well, he’s only my half-brother, so,” she shrugs. 

“Yeah he’s a lot more...tan?” Nellie says, her brows knitting together in confusion. “You’re so pale,” 

“Thank you, Nell.” Mordelia replies dryly. “Yes, Baz’s mother was Egyptian. My mother is from Brighton,” 

“Oh,” the other three say in unison. 

“Yeah no, he's still fit,” Elijah says, popping a chip in his mouth. “Mr. Snow too. I realize they’re your family, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t care.” 

“Elijah,” Sylvia scolds, but she’s smirking. 

“We’ve a strong gene pool,” Mordelia shrugs. 

“You could say that again,” Nellie says under her breath. 

“Am I seriously the only one disturbed by this realization?” Sylvia asks, and a series of ‘yes’s’ permeate through the small group. 

“This isn’t the first or last time someone will call my brother or his husband fit,” Mordelia says. “I’ve come to terms.” 

“You’re disturbed.” Sylvia says. 

“It runs in the family.” 

——

Ah, winter formal. The time of year when all the students get their trousers in a twist when it comes to finding dates and instead, find rejection. And then amidst the headache-inducing bass of mid-2010’s pop music, drama ensues. It’s not a proper formal if a girl doesn’t cry in the loo. 

The auditorium is adorned with a multitude of stars, twinkling lights and tinsel, strung elegantly against the rafters and brick walls. Even Baz himself can appreciate the quality of the decor, considering that it was in fact done by a group of teenagers. 

“Basilton!” a voice calls from behind him, before a heavy hand comes down onto his shoulder. He turns to see the fellow teacher and theatre director, Carlton Warner, smiling at him. 

“Carlton,” Baz greets. “How’re you?” 

“I’m doing fine, thanks. How do you like the decorations?”

“They look great, the kids did a great job,” Baz tells him. 

“Thank you! I think so too.” He nods and smiles, and then gives Baz a long glance. “So, you’re chaperoning tonight, are you ever going to bring your husband to one of these fine gatherings?” 

“Oh, yes actually, my husband will be here,” Baz replies vaguely. 

“You’re bringing him? Fantastic,” Carlton claps, seemingly enthused. 

“Mmm,” Baz hums, narrowing his eyes at his coworker. They really don’t have any fucking idea, do they? Not even an inkling. 

Simon insisted a month ago, after Modelia’s catastrophe, that they could appear cordial at the winter formal, instead of standing separately across the room as Baz had suggested. Simon’s getting sick of not being able to eat with Baz or drive to work with him, just as Baz knew he would. 

Admittedly, it drives Baz insane too. It has the entire time. How could it not? Simon walking around the halls of Watford in sweatpants and athletic shorts, knowing full well what they do to him? It’s shameful, really. How dare Simon do such a thing. Terrible husband. 

“Well, I’m excited to meet him! I’ll see you tonight?” Carlton says before turning around swiftly and leaving the auditorium. Baz nods once, takes one more look around, and follows him out. 

  
  


——

Simon didn’t go home after school, instead choosing to work on football plays and lesson plans, so Baz hasn’t seen him since he left him at home this morning. 

He told Carlton his husband would be here, and if he doesn’t show, Baz will look like a liar, and he will never be able to convince either his coworkers or his students that he actually  _ has  _ a husband. But Baz isn’t a liar, he and Simon had talked about coming to this together. Leaving together. Going  _ home  _ together. 

Baz feels the gentle tap of a hand against his shoulder, and turns to see Agatha Wellbelove standing next to him, looking pretty and perfect in a blush pink pantsuit. 

“Hey,” she smiles, and it eases his tense nerves slightly. 

“Hi,” he replies lightly. Agatha had moved to the States to attend college, but then moved back to England when she was done to be closer to family. Now, she’s a highly regarded geneticist, and also teaches science at Watford. A little bit below her pay grade, but it makes her happy, and both he and Simon like to have her around. 

“Where’s Simon?” She asks quietly. 

“Running late,” Baz sneers and Agatha rolls her eyes. 

“He’ll come, you dolt,” 

“Agatha,” Baz warns. 

“Baz,” She replies with the same tone. 

“No one believes me, you know. No one in this school believes I’m capable of loving or being loved by another human being,” 

“What! That’s utter bollocks. After all, I love you!” She teases, and all Baz can do is blink at her.

“Why is it so important to you?” She asks. 

“It’s not, it’s just that the students—“ 

“The students? Is this because they think he’s attractive?” 

“Not entirely,” Baz winces. 

“Baz?” 

“ _ Everyone _ thinks he’s fit, Agatha,” Baz whines, and realization dawns on Agatha's face. 

“Oh bloody hell,” she laughs. “You’re jealous!”

“Keep your voice down,” Baz hisses, but Agatha is practically giggling. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Does Simon _ know _ ?” 

“ _ Hush _ ,” Baz hisses. 

“You want to stake a claim,” She says, her voice laced with disbelief. 

“Of course I do! Have you seen the way the librarian looks at him? We get it Elenor, he’s got a nice arse! Keep it to yourself!” Baz huffs. 

“Basilton Pitch-Snow,” Agatha laughs again. 

“Do  _ not  _ use my full name right now, Agatha, I will slaughter you,” 

“I’ve never seen you so jealous!” 

“I’m just as surprised as you, believe me,” Baz replies, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Basilton, Agatha!” A voice shouts from behind him, and Baz cringes when he sees Agatha’s wide smile and evil glare. Carlton needs to learn how to approach someone from the front, honestly. 

“Carlton!” She chimes, and as she waves him over, Baz thinks about stuffing her into the trunk of his Jaguar. She’d fit, in any case. 

“Basilton, I thought you were bringing your husband?” Carlton asks as they shake hands for the second time that day. 

“He’s coming, he should be here soon,” Baz answers. 

As if on cue, and much to Baz’s pleasure, Simon walks through the doors on the opposite side, wearing his nicest navy blue slacks and a white button down, rolled up at the sleeves. He looks very, very fine. 

His eyes scan the room until they meet Baz’s, and when he smiles, the one he reserves just for his husband, Baz’s nerves diminish completely. Simon starts weaving his way through the crowd of dancing teenagers over to them, and huffs a laugh when he reaches them. 

“Hey, you lot,” He greets, and Agatha gives him a cheeky grin, which makes his face crumple. 

“Simon! We were just talking about Baz’s mysterious husband,” 

“Were we?” He smirks, and Baz rolls his eyes. 

“In fact, don’t you also have a husband?” Carlton asks him, and Simon stares at him blankly for a moment before replying. 

“That I do,” he tells him. 

“Where is he this evening?” Carlton asks. 

“Oi, yeah, he beat me here actually,” Simon laughs, giving Baz a look, and Baz’s expression hardens. 

“Which is ridiculous, because you were still on campus,” 

“I was finishing my lesson plan!” 

“For three hours?” 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two were married!” Carlton laughs, and Baz’s eyes widen. He glances back at Simon, who shrugs. Agatha looks fit to burst, but is casually covering her mouth with her fingers. 

“Do you?” Baz asks Carlton carefully. 

“Do I what?” Carlton frowns. 

“Know better?” 

“What?” 

“Baz,” Simon warns. 

“Carlton, tell me, do you really not have any idea who my husband is?” 

“No, I’ve never met him. How would I possibly?” 

“Would you believe me if I told you that you have met him, and that you see him almost every day?” 

“What?” 

“Baz,” Simon says again, but Baz just narrows his eyes. 

“What are you on about?” Carlton laughs, shaking his head. “Are you saying your husband works at Watford? 

“I trust that given this current situation, you may be able to deduce that by yourself,” 

“You—and—what—“ Carlton flusters and laughs awkwardly, looking and pointing between Simon and Baz as he tries to figure it out. Agatha starts laughing into her hand, and uses her other to steady herself against Simon’s side. 

“Yes, it is true. Simon is my husband. However, we would greatly appreciate it if this information didn’t spread like the plague, you understand,” Baz says, waving his hand nonchalantly. 

“Basilton, I’m floored! Why have you two been keeping it a secret?” 

“Professional reasons,” Simon interjects, and Baz nods once in agreement. 

“That’s fair enough I suppose,” Carlton nods slowly. “Your privacy is safe with me, lads.” 

“Thank you,” Baz says, and Carlton’s dazed expression doesn’t fade as he begins to walk away from them. 

Simon comes to stand next to him, and whispers, “Everyone will know by Monday,” 

“That is likely, yes,” Baz replies, and Agatha coughs a few times to clear her throat. 

“That was...incredible,” 

“I’m glad you find this amusing, Agatha,” Baz tells her, and she just rolls her eyes. 

“Hey, at least now everyone knows Simon’s your husband,” 

“Not everyone, yet,” Simon points out, laughing. 

“Mr. Snow’s Mr. Pitch’s husband? Mr. Pitch is Mr. Snow’s husband?!” Someone says from behind them, and they all turn to see a first year, Nev Marren, gawking at them. Just then, they all simultaneously remember that they are chaperoning a school dance, and that their own students are quite literally surrounding them. 

“Oh, no,” Baz says, just before Nev turns quickly and launches himself back into the throng of teens. 

“ _ Now  _ everyone knows,” Simon says. 

“Well, fuck,” Baz sighs, planting his face in his palm. 

———

_ Monday _ … 

He’s been dreading this day all weekend. Ever since Friday night at the formal, he’s been at his wit’s end trying to relax about how his students are going to behave come this very morning. Simon assured him that it would be fine, that the students would respect them as elders, as if he wasn’t already been _ objectified  _ by them on a daily basis. 

Baz sits at his desk and waits for the clock to strike eight. He knows what’s coming. Althea Blake, Victoria Blanchett, his own sister, they’re all coming for him. A barrage of questions will ensue, surely. They’ll want answers. Children always want answers. He certainly did at their age. He’ll just have to endure it until it’s over. But what if it never ends? 

The door opens quietly, startling him, and Simon’s figure appears in the doorway. 

“Just saying good morning, since my husband likes to leave me in bed,” 

“Not my fault you sleep late,” Baz replies, staring blankly ahead, reaching for his coffee mug. \\\

“What’s wrong? Still worried about the kids?” 

“You should go before they get here. It’ll only be worse if they see you,” Baz says, dismissing him. Simon rolls his eyes, then walks over to stand in front on Baz’s desk. 

“You’ll be fine, okay? If you’re not, text me, or call my office. I’m right here, okay?” Simon tells him, but it does nothing to settle the anxiety pooling in his chest. 

“Love?” Simon says, and Baz finally looks up at him. 

“Alright, Simon, I heard you,” Baz sighs, “Now go do your job, you nightmare.” 

“Okay. I’ll see you at lunch,” Simon laughs as he walks back towards the door. “And Baz?” 

“Yes?” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, now get out of my classroom.” Baz says, glaring at him, and Simon laughs again as he pushes open the door. 

After a few minutes of silence, the bell rings out through the school and Baz rises to prop open the door. He leans against his desk as he waits for them, the interrogators, to come for him. 

Surprisingly, Mordelia arrives first. 

“Smooth move,” she says, punching him in the arm as she passes to get to her seat. 

“Do I need to be worried?” 

“Actually, I don’t think so,” 

“What?” Baz says, and as more students start flooding in, he notices that none of them are scowling, frowning, or glaring at him. In fact, they’re smiling. One of them aims to fist-bump him as they walk to their seat. What is happening? 

“Mr. Pitch,” Victoria says as she settles into her desk in front of him. 

“Yes?” 

“We believe you.” 

“Yeah, but we also can’t believe it’s Mr.Snow, and you didn’t immediately tell us,” Althea says as she walks in. 

“I’m not obligated to share details about my personal life, you know,” 

“But you sat there and denied it,” 

“Ms. Blake,” 

“Listen, Mr. Pitch, all I’ll say is,” she smirks. “Nice work.” 

Baz’s mouth falls open as she slips into her seat, and he can do nothing but hear his class, especially his little sister, burst into laughter. 

“Alright, alright, settle down,” Baz says when he finally regains composure. “Firstly, thank you. I was horribly worried that today would be brutal, and that you would all hate me for lying to you. However, I’m now realizing that I am your teacher, and this conversation is highly inappropriate. But as we all know, nothing at this school is ever normal, so I will say this one thing and then we will never speak of it again, okay?” he says, and his students nod at him. “Mr. Snow is my husband, and has been for three years. We do not live in London, because that is ridiculously far to commute every day, and yes, he is very good looking, that’s why I fell for him when I was fifteen. But no more questions. If you ask, I will not answer. Simon, however, might. Now, open your books to page 265, let’s get started,” 

Barely contained squeals find their way out of many of the students as he turns around, and Baz smiles to himself. Maybe it was worth the wait.    


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you all so much for reading. Please, let me know what you thought in the comments. I really, truly, love hearing from you. New comments make my entire day, and I love responding to you guys. 
> 
> As always, thank you for the endless love on this fic. This is my baby fic, my shortest (that's not a one-shot), and I'm immensely proud of it! So thank you for reading, thank you for commenting, and thank you for the kudos. 
> 
> If you'd like to read my other Snowbaz fics (It's the Things They Don't Tell You is almost complete!), or see what else I've been working on, feel free to visit my author's page. Otherwise, please feel free to come join me on [tumblr](https://captain-sass-pants.tumblr.com/) or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Ivrigasked), as I'm fairly active on both of those sites as well. 
> 
> Okay, byeeeee!!!!! I hope I see you soon!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Professional Work Environment](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28274673) by [Livisafish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livisafish/pseuds/Livisafish)




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